


Just Around the Corner

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 31 Days of Smut, Again sort of, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, Exes to Lovers, M/M, Sort Of, Spooky, Strangers to Lovers, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12429003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: 31 Days of Smut Prompt Word: EerieLouis' routine life is interrupted by the repeated appearance of... something. A ghost? A stranger? A hallucination?





	Just Around the Corner

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pinch hit for 31 DOS! I had fun writing it. I hope you like it!
> 
> Big thanks to my beta, [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com)! Love you!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

Routines are so… routine. Getting up at the same time every day, eating the same breakfast, putting on the same shoes, going to work, coming home. Not even looking up or down, really, just taking the same path every morning and every evening, depending on motor memory to navigate the city.

Louis’ routine includes waiting on a busy platform, getting onto the packed subway a few minutes after six o’clock every weeknight, standing amongst the throng of people until two stops into Brooklyn when the crowd starts to thin, sometimes getting a seat. 

It’s a particularly muggy and hot Friday evening in October and Louis wants nothing more than to get home, drink a beer, and shower. Somehow he manages to snag a seat a few stops earlier than normal, and he zones out a bit, staring at his phone, trying to decide whether to take Liam up on his offer to go out that night.

The sensation that someone’s watching him creeps along the back of Louis’ neck and he looks up, but everyone around him is staring at their phones or tablets, most of them with headphones in their ears. He looks over his shoulder and it’s more of the same, so he shrugs it off and goes back to looking up the website of the bar where Liam wants to go this weekend. He might as well go. Not like he has anything else to do. Plus, it looks interesting in a morbid sort of way.

He’s almost to his stop, so he stands up, and pockets his phone. Just as he gets to his feet, another man near the doors stands up as well, and something about him pings Louis’ memory, almost likedéjà vu. He’s taller than Louis by a few inches, with short dark hair, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a really nice bum covered by dark blue skinny jeans. When the train jerks to a stop, he reaches up to hold on, and his white t-shirt rides up and Louis really, really wishes he was still sitting down. The black elastic band of his underwear is peeking out over the waist of his jeans and cutting into the soft side of his hips. Louis feels a little faint. He actually fans himself with his hand. It’s been a long time since he’s seen someone so gorgeous—and only from the back! He needs to see more, so he hurries forward, or he tries to. By the time he steps through the doors onto the platform, the man is gone. 

After collecting the mail from their box, Louis climbs the stairs, not willing to chance it in the elevator that only works about a third of the time. He drops Niall’s stuff on the kitchen counter and grabs a beer from the fridge. The apartment is his for the next week, but it’s not as though he has big plans. Though he’d like to work from home at least once, just to see what it’s like without Niall there during the day. Maybe he’ll work naked.

Louis pulls out his lucky burgundy t-shirt and his tightest black jeans. Something about that hot-from-the-back guy from the subway makes him feel optimistic, so he styles his hair as high as he can get it and meets Liam on the sidewalk.

“Looking to get laid tonight?” Liam smirks and looks him up and down.

“Not really, though I wouldn’t mind.”

“Right.” Liam chuckles. “Like I don’t know that’s your ‘looking to score’ outfit.”

Louis falls in step beside him. “I… Well, you’re right about the clothes. But… I suppose it was unintentional.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

While they walk, Louis tells him all about the mystery man from the subway. They end up at the bar a few streets over where they almost always go on Fridays. The booths and tables are all full when they walk in, so they stand around at the bar, drinking beer and waiting for someone to leave so they can sit down. As soon as the couple in the corner detach their mouths from each other’s necks and stumble out of their booth, Louis and Liam slide into the seats, stacking the dirty glasses at the end of the table.

They spend the evening catching up on their week and talking about the bar that Liam wants to go to the following night. 

“I don’t usually go out both nights on the weekend, Li.”

“Yeah, I know, but look at it! It’s so cool.” Liam grins big and slides his phone across the table so Louis can see. 

“It’s fucking weird, man. But if that’s what you’re into…” Louis teases. 

Liam raises his eyebrows. “I’m not _into it_. I just thought it would be cool. We don’t have to—”

“Nah, we’ll go. At least I can say I’ve been.”

A little while later, Liam comes back to their booth with fresh drinks and a basket of fries. He stands at the end of the table for a minute, passing everything to Louis before sliding back into his seat. When he moves out of the way, Louis does a double-take. 

It’s the hot-from-the-back guy from the subway. He’s wearing the same t-shirt and that’s the same ass in the same jeans, and a sense of déjà vu hits Louis again. “It’s him!” and he’s out of his seat before Liam can ask any questions, weaving his way through the crowded bar to the table near the door where the guy’s standing. Was standing. Because by the time he gets there, the guy is gone. The table is empty except for dirty glasses and beer bottles. He stares for a few seconds, blinking and chewing on his lip, before the waitress reaches past him to clear the table. He excuses himself and goes back to their booth.

“He disappeared.” Louis pouts and crosses his arms. “Twice in one day.”

“Ehh… Maybe it’s not meant to be.” Liam winks and sips his beer. “Or if it is, you’ll see him again.”

That night, tired and sweaty, his hair deflated from the humidity, Louis strips naked and lays on top of the blanket on his bed. It’s too fucking hot and he thinks he’ll never be able to sleep. So he figures why not. He jerks off to the memory of the mystery man’s shoulders and hips, pictures himself gripping his soft hips tightly with one hand, pushing his shoulders down into the mattress with the other, while fucking him from behind. 

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad Friday. He may not have gotten to meet this mystery man, but he definitely got off.

«»

Saturday is always Louis’ errand day. Even way back in college he always did his shopping and running around early on Saturdays, preferring to leave that night free for parties or dates, and keeping Sunday open for the possibility of hangovers or waking up late after sleepovers. 

The last thing on his list is a grocery run, so he grabs his reusable bags and walks down to Trader Joe’s. It’s crowded at the grocery store, but Louis doesn’t mind. He’s not in a hurry, so he walks up and down the aisles with his basket, taking his time, and letting the other shoppers move around him. He double checks the list on his phone, then turns down the crowded bread aisle. About a third of the way down, he finds the tortillas he wants, tosses them in his basket, and tucks his phone in his pocket. 

Chills run up the back of his neck and his arms and he whips his head around to look behind him. Nothing. He turns to face forward and continue down the aisle, and sees him just as he disappears around the endcap. Just his hair, his arm, and his leg, but it’s him. Louis is one hundred percent sure. 

He tries to get around the cart in front of him, but the man pushing it stops and reaches for a bag of bread, blocking his way. He turns back and there are two carts behind him. For the first time since he walked into the store, he’s in a hurry. He pushes past the man with the bread, knocking his own basket against his cart, and spilling the contents all over the floor. 

Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, apologizes to the man he almost knocked over, then squats down to pick up his groceries from the floor. 

This is getting weird. There’s no way it’s the same guy, but it’s _definitely_ the same guy. He’s even wearing the same clothes. Fucking bizarre. 

«»

While Louis unpacks his grocery haul, Liam texts him for the third time about going out to that weird wax museum bar. He sighs and gives in, texting him a quick _ok_ and opening a beer. It can’t get much weirder than this random guy disappearing around corners every five minutes. 

Louis figures that he’ll go with a theme for the evening, so he dresses in all black and leaves his hair down. He meets Liam on the corner and they walk to the subway together. 

“I saw that guy again.”

“Yeah? So is he hot from the front as well?”

“Don’t know. I only saw a bit of him from the side. Just like… his ear and shoulder. He was at Trader Joe’s and I noticed him as he left the aisle. Tried to catch him, but I fucking dropped my groceries.”

Liam snorts. “Really?”

Louis rolls his eyes and nods. He wonders if he’d even notice if it was someone else showing up everywhere he goes or if it’s just that he wants to see this guy’s face so badly. 

The bar is fucking weird. It’s cool, but creepy, and Louis thinks it fits his mood. The drinks are good, but the wax and plaster models of human bodies and body parts are bizarre. He giggles into his drink when he imagines trying to bring a date here. They’d probably run away screaming. 

Even with the eerie wax museum setting, the bar is busy, and Louis is kind of tired and ready to call it a night. He promised to have a drink or two and he’s on number four, not including the beer he had at home. They settle up and stop off in the restroom before leaving. Louis follows Liam past the bar towards the entrance, one hand on Liam’s shoulder because his eyes are tired and he doesn’t want to bump into a wax person on the way out. Liam stops to grab a business card and Louis looks up just in time to see a very recognizable ear, some dark hair, and a set of shoulders that may or may not have visited Louis in his dreams, rushing past the door.

Before he can consider it, he’s pushing Liam out of the way, darting out onto the sidewalk, running in the direction that the man was moving. But he’s gone. There are people out, it’s a Saturday night and the weather’s nice, so it’s possible that he’s simply lost in the crowd, but it doesn’t seem that way. He fucking disappeared into thin air. Louis stops and stares, trying to focus on every individual walking in that direction, but he can’t find him.

“What the fuck, Louis?” Liam shoves his shoulder. “You knocked me into a fucking wax face, man.”

“It was the guy!” Louis points down the sidewalk. “He walked past the door and I had to catch him.”

“Well?”

“He fucking disappeared again!” Louis shouts. “It’s ridiculous. This is like… four times! Four!”

Liam stares down the sidewalk, then turns to Louis and stares at him for a few seconds. “That _is_ fucking weird.”

“I know!” Louis throws his hands in the air and starts walking in the opposite direction. “Do we risk a fifth encounter on the subway or…”

“Uber’s on the way.” Liam says and grabs Louis’ elbow and pulls him over so they can lean against the wall of the bar. “Maybe he’ll be the driver.”

When he gets home that night, he heads straight to his fridge and opens a beer, chugs it, then opens another. He can’t shake the feeling that something strange is going on, so he finishes the rest of the six-pack and goes to bed, hoping that Sunday will be normal. All he has to do is laundry. He doesn't even have to leave his building. 

«»

It rains on Sunday, which is perfect. Louis can stay home all day and not even feel bad about it. He lazes around most of the morning, does a little housework, and in the afternoon when the rain gets heavier and the thunder starts, he goes downstairs to start his laundry. 

He’s perfected the art of wearing one load’s worth of clothes every week, so that he only needs one washing machine and one drier. After dumping his clothes in and starting the wash cycle, he sets the timer on his phone to go off five minutes before the wash cycle should finish, then goes back upstairs to lay on his couch and finish his book. The sound of the storm outside combined with his decision to stay in sweatpants all day have made him almost too comfortable. Add that to his mild hangover, and he’s on the verge of falling asleep when his phone alarm blares. After slipping his feet into his shoes, he makes his way down to the basement laundry room to move his clothes to the drier. 

The machine isn’t finished when he gets there, so he peeks inside and it looks like it’s still rinsing. He sits down on the wobbly chair in the corner to wait. It’s warm and the air smells like fabric softener and within a few minutes, he nods off, his head leaning back against the wall. 

Louis jolts awake, his eyes fly open, and he’s confused for just a split second. Then he remembers where he is and what he’s doing. A movement in his peripheral vision catches his attention and he turns his head, assuming it’s a load of laundry tumbling in the drier, but it’s the goddamn guy from the subway. Louis stands up so quickly that the chair knocks into the wall and falls down, but he doesn’t really even notice, because he’s trying to will his tired body to move faster. He runs through the room and out the door into the hallway and looks in the direction of the stairs—the only way out of the basement—and there’s no one there. The hall is completely empty. 

It’s infuriating. So much so that he literally stomps his feet and growls. He turns and goes back to put his clothes in the drier. It honestly is driving him up the fucking wall at this point. Who the fuck is this dude and what the fuck is he doing in Louis’ building? He gets another chill, the hair stands up on his arms, and he runs back out into the hall. Nothing again. He rolls his eyes and sets his phone alarm, then goes back to start the drier. There are thoughts bouncing around in the back of his mind, they’ve been there since the third time, that maybe he’s imagining this. Maybe he’s seeing things. Maybe someone’s drugged him. Maybe he’s been asleep this whole time and it’s just a long, weird dream. He pinches himself on the hip and clenches his teeth. Nope. Definitely awake.

Louis sighs and slowly walks down the hallway. He takes two steps before the lights flicker and then go off. 

It’s the storm. At least that’s what he tells himself. Still, that doesn’t keep him from running flat out for the stairs. He manages to turn on the flashlight on his phone and sprints up all six flights of stairs to his floor. Even though the lights come back on when he hits the second floor landing, he doesn’t stop running until he’s behind his apartment door. He spins around and leans his back against it, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor, phone in hand, flashlight still shining. He turns it off and calls Liam.

Liam convinces him it’s nothing. It really is nothing, he knows. The basement lights are fucked up and go on and off all the time. The building is old and when there are too many washers and driers going at the same time, it’s like the wiring decides what to run; the lights lose most of the time. Even though he knows it’s not like he’s being haunted by some hot guy, he calls Liam again when his phone alarm goes off and makes him stay on the line while he runs downstairs to pull his clothes out of the drier.

«»

When Louis wakes up Monday morning, he feels like he’s starting over. Maybe it’s because it’s the beginning of the work week, maybe it’s because he’ll be busy all day and won’t have time to waste thinking about this mysterious disappearing man. He showers and dresses and leaves a few minutes early, stops for coffee on the way to the subway, and makes it all the way to work without anything unusual happening. 

After his morning meetings are over, he goes out to grab lunch, and there are no strangers causing goosebumps. When he spends the entire subway ride home staring at his fellow commuters, he feels a little bit weird. It’s not the normal thing to do. Most of the people around him are busy pretending they’re alone instead of on a crowded train, but he has to keep his eyes open. Louis makes it all the way home without anything strange happening and he does a little dance in his kitchen in celebration, then goes to grab a beer to toast to the end of his run-ins with the ‘hot from the back guy from the subway turned creepy apparition or something’, but there aren’t any. He drank them all and didn’t buy more. 

He stands there staring into his refrigerator for a moment, then slams it shut and heads back out the door. The bodega carries his favorite beer, so he’ll just run down and pick up a six-pack. 

It’s only a few minutes later that he’s walking past the glass doors of the refrigerated section. He bends down and reaches in, then freezes and whips his head to the side. Was that… dark hair, white t-shirt, and jeans? He straightens up and quickly walks after him, letting the door close. Around the endcap and down the aisle, he breaks into a slow jog for few steps. He can see his hair and he’s got him cornered in the back of the store. He turns at the end of the aisle, and the man is right there, except it’s not him. Fuck. 

White t-shirt, jeans, and dark hair, but it’s the same guy who’s always there stocking the store. 

Louis sighs and goes back for his beer. He needs to just fucking forget about this whole thing. It was a good day. So he’ll just pretend this never happened. He sets his beer on the counter to pay just as the clerk asks him how he’s doing. It’s the same guy he sees there at least once a week, so Louis spills. Well, he spills the short version. At least the guy doesn’t laugh at him. And he doesn’t think it’s a ghost either. Instead, he tells Louis about a guy he knew who knew a girl who got dosed with some sort of extended release hallucinogen and kept seeing her family dog, except her family dog lived back in Pennsylvania with her parents.

Louis shakes his head. He doesn’t really even believe that this happened to this girl, and he definitely doesn’t think it happened to him. He shakes his head again and taps his fingers against the counter, waiting for the ATM to spit out his card. Louis rolls his shoulders back and stretches his neck, first to one side, then the other. And there he fucking is. 

“Hurry, hurry, hurry. Fuck! It’s him!” He shouts and points over the clerk’s shoulder, the machine beeps and he yanks his card and cash out, drops a twenty on the counter, and runs out the door with his beer, yelling, “Hey!” rounds the corner and he’s fucking gone. He turns back, defeated, and walks home. He’s halfway up the stairs when the lights flicker and he thinks maybe the clerk was right. Maybe someone drugged him or something, maybe he’s losing it. 

He opens a beer and plops down onto his couch with his laptop, determined to figure this shit out. Twenty minutes later, he’s on the phone with Liam, freaking the fuck out. 

“Li, I think maybe someone gave me something. I was looking online and there’s a subreddit about hallucinogens and… I do. I think that’s what happened.”

“Dude, when?”

“When? Since Friday!”

“I just don’t see it, Louis. We hung out this weekend. You were fine. I think you’re just seeing like, a few different people who kind of look similar and letting it get to your head.”

“No, I—”

“Listen. Short dark hair. Skinny jeans. White t-shirt.”

“Yeah, that’s him—”

“No, man, that’s like… anyone. That’s you most days.” 

Louis looks down at his outfit. He’s quiet for a few seconds because Liam is… kind of right. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why don’t you just take it easy. You’re really stressed with work and have you even enjoyed Niall being away?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Can you work from home tomorrow? Just stay in. Relax.”

“I’ll try. I probably can. Thanks, Li. I don’t… I feel better. It’s just been really weird, you know? ’Cause I feel like I know the guy and then the clerk said the thing about the dog and it just hit me funny. Stupid, right?”

“Nah, it’s not stupid. Just a series of eerie coincidences.”

“Yeah…”

Louis finishes his entire six-pack of beer and tries to go to bed early, but can’t fall asleep. He lays there, watching lights come in the window and track across the ceiling, before finally succumbing to exhaustion sometime after three. 

On Tuesday Louis works from home, just like Liam suggested. He stays inside, works a good bit, lays on his couch, watches television, naps, pointedly avoids Googling anything about ghosts or phantoms or hallucinogenic drugs. He goes to bed early and sleeps, finally.

It’s a good day. 

Louis tries not to think about how his criteria for a good day has changed in the last week.

The following morning, Louis wakes up feeling great. Well-rested, a little bouncy almost. He makes his own coffee and takes it with him, doesn’t see anything unusual on the way to the subway, or on the subway, or anywhere, really. Until he’s almost to his office building. He whips his head around at the sight of a white t-shirt and short brown hair, but it’s Michael from the IT department stubbing out a cigarette. Louis shakes his head and walks inside the building. 

By the end of Wednesday, Louis’ neck hurts. He’s jerked his head from side to side so often that he’s pretty sure he pulled something. And for nothing. Michael from that morning, Liz from the accounting department (and she wasn’t even wearing jeans!), Jonathan from three cubicles down (new haircut), and the guy running the taco truck. Louis gives up and goes home early. He’s tired of this shit. Tired of freaking out over nothing. Tired of overreacting. Tired. He decides to stop looking. In fact, he vows to turn the other way if he so much as thinks that he sees a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.

Thursday goes smoothly. Louis gets to work early, catches the elevator immediately, and all in all has a really good day at work. He meets with his boss to talk about working from home more often and, surprisingly, it goes well. It’s the best day he’s had in a while and he can’t stop the little smile on his face when he gets on the subway to go home and somehow manages to snag a seat right away. He buries his face in his phone, typing out notes to himself, making his grocery list, and reading about the new seasonal pumpkin beers. When he gets close to his stop, he tucks his phone away, and looks up. 

And there he fucking is. 

Not close enough to touch, but close enough that when he turns his head a bit, Louis can almost see his profile. His heartrate skyrockets and he feels almost like he can’t breathe. He’s right there. Louis stands up and starts to make his way forward. If he can get there before they stop, maybe he can keep him from running out the door or fucking disappearing into thin air again, or wherever he’s been going. He’s so close he can taste it when someone jostles his side and he looks over. A pregnant woman is trying to pass him to get to the seat he just vacated and he’s blocking her way. The car stops. Louis bites his lip and helps her, returning her grateful smile with a tight-lipped one of his own. Because he knows when he turns around, the man will be gone.

On Friday, Louis works from home again. Except that this time he does actually work from home. He has two meetings and spends a good portion of the day returning emails and chatting with his boss about ways to make it easier for others to work from home as well. He’s actually tired when he closes his laptop, but he doesn’t care. He’s already decided he’s going out tonight. He texted Liam hours ago. Niall’s going to be home any minute and they have plans. They’re going out. They’re getting dressed up. They’re getting wasted. Niall can carry him home tonight. 

He takes an actual bath, not a shower, uses some bath bomb thing that his sister gave him, soaks in it while drinking a beer, and then he gets dressed. As in dressed. He wears his nice black leather shoes, rolls up the ankles of his nice black pants, rolls up the sleeves of his nice blue button-up shirt, and he fixes his hair into the messy fringe that Niall likes to call his “Did you just get laid?” hairstyle. 

Niall keeps winking obnoxiously at him every time Louis looks at him. By the time they meet Liam at the bar, Louis’ eyes hurt from rolling them. It’s dark and crowded and the music is loud. Perfect. Louis buys the first round and within half an hour, he already has a buzz. Liam and Niall are dancing together, so Louis spins in a little circle by himself, shaking his ass to the beat, pausing only to sip his drink. He sucks hard on the straw, swallowing the last of his gin and tonic, starts towards the bar, and his empty glass almost slips out of his hand. He pushes through the crowd, drops his empty on the bar, and after struggling past the people entering the door he’s trying to leave through, follows him out into the night. Of course, he’s not there once Louis hits the sidewalk. 

It… sucks the life out of him. He’s suddenly just done. 

Louis shakes his head and goes back inside, and finds Liam and Niall to tell them what happened. He wants to go home and go to bed. And maybe move to Maine. Maybe he can work from home in Maine. Liam offers to let Louis sleep at his place, offers to walk him home, and Niall has no idea what’s going on, but nods along anyway. He’ll leave it to Liam to explain. He steps back outside, finds a cab, and goes home. 

Louis walks into the brightly lit lobby and rubs his eyes. Maybe he’ll order a pizza or something. The elevator dings and for a split second he considers taking it, but he knows better. He looks up, curious to know what brave soul in this old building is willing to risk it. Really, Louis should just walk around staring at his shoes all day. It would be for the best. Because that asshole just stepped into the elevator. He runs for the doors, but they slide closed before he can get there, so he turns and runs for the stairs. 

He sprints up the first two flights to the third floor, busts through the door into the hallway and watches the light flash as the elevator passes by. Louis runs back into the stairwell and continues to the fourth floor, waiting for the elevator to stop, and when it doesn’t, he runs on. For a split second he considers stopping for good on his floor, but there’s only two more after that, so he keeps going. One floor above his, he pushes through the door, jogs to the elevator, and almost cries as he watches the doors close on an empty elevator car. 

Louis kicks the elevator door. He wants to scream, but… neighbors. The sound of a door squeaking open catches his ear, and he runs in that direction, rounds the corner and sees him. Just his fucking legs—skinny jeans and boots—but it’s enough. Louis reaches the door as it closes and he hears the lock slide across. He stands there staring at the door, heart pounding in his chest, sweat dripping down his back, and starts beating on the door, neighbors be damned. 

This is it. Louis has reached a level of not giving a fuck that he didn’t realize was possible. The last week of his life has been non-stop looking over his shoulder. He’s tired of chills running up and down his spine. He’s tired of the constant eerie feeling that he’s being watched. He’s just… tired. He feels like he’s either losing it or someone is trying to make him think that he is and he’s had enough. It ends now. Either he’s getting some answers from whoever’s behind this door or, if the apartment turns out to be vacant or something, he’s checking himself into a hospital.

It’s not vacant because he can hear someone moving around on the other side of the door. Probably looking through the peephole at him right fucking now.

“Open the door!” Louis yells, and they do.

The door swings open and…

“Louis?”

“Harry?”

What the fuck.

Louis stands there for a moment with his mouth hanging wide open, his eyes about to fall out of his head, then he turns and walks back towards the stairs. Because of every possibility that he considered over the last week, he never thought of his sort-of ex. He still has zero clue what’s going on, but at least he’s probably not in need of hospitalization. 

“Lou!” Harry shouts after him from his doorway, but Louis doesn’t turn around. He needs to go lie down. Preferably on his couch or in his bed, but the carpet in his entryway is kind of soft. It’ll do in a pinch. “Louis, wait!” 

Louis sucks in a deep breath through his nose, stops walking, closes his eyes and exhales. Then slowly turns back to face him. “What?”

“What, um… What are you doing here?” Harry steps out into the hallway and walks towards Louis.

Louis shakes his head. “Apparently I’m living in the twilight zone. Have you… Did you like…” It seems impossible. Harry was always so sweet and they ended things years ago on good terms. Bad timing, really. They met in college in California right before Louis was set to move to New York. But after this last week… “Have you been _stalking_ me?” 

“What? You were just…” Harry spins and points at his apartment door. “Attacking my door!”

“You’ve been following me all week!”

“I have not. That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know where you live!”

“I live right below you, you dick. Don’t lie. You’ve been fucking following me all week.”

Harry’s brows knit together and he opens his mouth, then shuts it again. After a few seconds, he says, “I didn’t know you lived in this building.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t! I swear, Louis. I got this place because this guy I work with needed a roommate and I needed a place to live. I don’t… I haven’t been following you.”

Louis takes another deep breath and readies himself to list every single time that Harry has crossed his path in the last week.

“If I’d known you lived in the building...I mean, I was hoping you were still in New York. When I got the job here I thought about you. Wondered if we’d run into each other. If I’d known you were right there...” Harry points at the floor. “I would’ve knocked on your door.”

“Would you?” Because Harry sounds sincere. And this week has _sucked._ Maybe it can end on an upswing. He tips his chin down and looks up at Harry through his eyelashes. 

“I would’ve.” Harry nods and meets Louis’ eyes. “I, well, we only really went out on a few dates before you moved. And I liked you. I mean, what I knew of you.” He scrunches his nose like he’s fighting a smile. “I liked kissing you. Was always a little sad that I never got to see you naked.”

Louis snorts and before he can think too much about it, he takes a step closer and says, “I jerked off thinking about your back after I saw you on the subway.”

Harry gasps before Louis can finish talking and seems to choke on nothing, when he pulls it together he mutters, “You didn’t know it was me though.”

Louis takes another step towards Harry and tilts his head to the side. “Knew you were familiar. That’s what was killing me this week. Kept feeling like I was having déjà vu. So maybe part of me did know it was you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… You, um…” Louis takes a breath to think it through and decides to go for it. “You have plans for the rest of the night?”

Harry shakes his head, eyes wide, a small smile on his lips.

Louis smirks and raises one eyebrow as he takes yet another step forward. “You want to?”

“Want to what?” 

“Have plans.”

“Like… What kind of plans?”

“Whatever you want, really. Was thinking about how sad you must have been when I left California, you know, since you never got to see me naked.” Louis winks and crowds into Harry’s space.

“Are you serious?”

“Very much so. I have had a seriously fucked up week. My mind has been all over the place: from thinking maybe I was being stalked or even haunted to wondering if I needed to check myself into a hospital to Googling hallucinogens.” Louis reaches out and pinches the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt right over his stomach. “And it was you the whole time.”

“You’re serious.” Harry’s eyes search Louis’ face and when Louis nods again, Harry grabs his hand and steps backwards, pulling him into his apartment and shutting the door. The inside of Harry’s apartment is identical in layout to Louis’, even the walls are the same dingy off-white, but at least the furniture is different. And the… 

“Are those blacklight posters?” Louis hasn’t seen one of those since college.

Harry looks up at the ceiling, but doesn’t let go of Louis’ hand. “They’re my roommate’s. He’s really into that shit.” He turns and gestures towards the shelves beside the television. “Notice the collection of lava lamps? Not mine, I assure you.”

“Your roommate home?”

“Nope. At his girlfriend’s, I think.”

“Good,” Louis says just before twisting his hand in Harry’s grip, grabbing his wrists, and jerking Harry towards him, knocking them both backwards into the wall. He catches Harry’s mouth with his, banging their chins together, but not caring. He’s been on edge for a week, tense and stressed, and for no real reason. He needs to get it out of his system. It’s been a few years, but within seconds it feels like no time has passed at all and they’re standing outside Louis’ old apartment in California, waiting for the taxi to show up and take him to the airport. Louis smiles at the memory and pulls back enough to ask, “Like you remembered?”

Harry shrugs and bites the corner of his lower lip. “Better, maybe.” He leans back in and nudges his nose against Louis’, kissing him and then mumbling against his lips, “I’m sorry for freaking you out with my mere presence.”

A quiet chuckle leaves Louis’ mouth and causes their foreheads to bump together.

“Let me make it up to you.”

Louis nods and Harry drags his hand down the front of Louis’ shirt, carefully sliding the buttons free as he goes. His fingers trail down the skin of Louis’ chest, his stomach, and he pauses to trace the edge of Louis’ waistband with the tip of his thumb. A sigh escapes Louis’ lips and he surges forward for another kiss just as Harry unbuttons his pants and they practically unzip themselves. 

Harry’s lips follow the same path that his fingers took, detouring at Louis’ nipples, then moving down his stomach causing his abs to twitch. He hooks his index fingers inside Louis’ briefs, sits back, and looks up, widening his eyes and raising his brows. “Dun dun duuuuun.”

Louis frowns and asks, “What was that?”

Harry stops, his fingers pulling the elastic out and away from Louis’ belly. “It was supposed to be like an evil sound of anticipation.”

Louis snorts and says, “Should’ve tried an evil laugh.”

Harry shakes his head and yanks Louis’ underwear down, taking his pants with them. “Hello.”

“Did you… just say hello to my dick? I’m starting to think there’s a reason you never saw me naked in California.”

“Shut up.” Harry grins up at him and takes Louis’ half-hard cock in his hand, looks at it and says hello again. This time, before Louis can make fun of him, Harry’s tongue darts out and licks the tip, so Louis wisely decides to stay quiet. 

He wondered what this would be like, back in California before he moved, when they hung out Louis would find himself staring at Harry’s lips and wondering what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock. It’s a funny thing to remember, but Louis’ mind has been so preoccupied all week that it’s a wonder he’s able to think about anything at all. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall when Harry pumps his shaft slowly and sucks the head of his dick between his lips. It’s better than he imagined.

He’s fully hard in a moment and peers through his eyelashes to watch Harry, trying not to dwell on the absurdity of the situation. As if he can tell what Louis is thinking, Harry looks up, meets Louis’ eyes, and winks before sinking slowly down, enveloping Louis’ cock almost completely, and apparently sucking the rest of Louis’ brain out. 

It’s nothing but wet heat and perfect pressure sliding up and down his shaft from that moment on. Louis’ entire being is basically condensed to his dick and he has to force himself to focus just a small portion to staying upright. When Harry takes him down further and tugs on his balls, Louis’ head drops forward and he groans, accidentally rocking his hips forward. He opens his eyes and starts to apologize, but Harry’s got his own dick out and is jerking himself off and moaning around Louis’ cock, pressing himself forward and taking as much of Louis into his mouth as he can. 

Harry tightens his lips, circles his tongue around the tip, and pulls back, working Louis over his his hand while his body trembles and he comes into his hand and onto the floor between them. He lets out a little whine when he’s finished and sits up straighter, switching hands so that Louis’ cock is slicked up with Harry’s come. Harry blinks slowly up at Louis, reaches for his hand, and brings it to his cock, whispering, “Come on me.” Then he drops his hands and holds them behind his back, closes his eyes, and tilts his face up slightly.

“Shit. Okay.” Louis was fucking close already and seeing Harry come brought him so much closer. He only has to stroke himself for a moment before his orgasm overtakes him and he comes, shooting all over Harry’s perfect lips, his cheeks, and his neck. “Fuck, Harry.”

“Yeah…” Harry smiles up at him and licks the come from his lips. The strength in Louis’ legs gives out at that and he slides down the wall to the floor, feet on either side of Harry’s knees. 

“You, um, got a little…” Louis points at Harry’s face and smirks. 

Harry cackles and falls backwards onto the floor, pulls his t-shirt up and wipes his face with it, then angles his head to look at Louis. “Better?”

Louis nods and leans to the side to pull his underwear up so that his bare ass isn’t sitting on Harry’s floor, but once he’s that far over, he gives up and slumps the rest of the way. He opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what, but his phone rings and interrupts his thoughts. He fishes into his pocket for it and stares at the screen. Liam. Louis declines the call. He’ll call him later. 

“Hey,” Louis says and pokes Harry in the thigh, but he doesn’t get any further because his phone rings again. This time he answers. “What, Liam?”

“Oh, thank god. We were so worried. Niall and I decided to check on you and you weren’t home. We thought something horrible happened.”

“Um… nothing horrible. I’m fine. I’ll be home in a minute, okay?” Louis waits for Liam to agree, then hangs up.

“Leaving so soon?” Harry drawls from his place on the floor.

Louis pushes himself up onto all fours and crawls over to Harry. “I hate to fuck and run, but my friends are freaking out. So…” He leans down until their faces are just inches apart.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Louis whispers. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Harry shrugs. “Laundry? Need to wash this shirt.”

Louis snickers and places a slow, sweet kiss on Harry’s lips. “Well, not that it’s a romantic date, but I need to do laundry too. You want to, um, do laundry together?”

“Romance, hmm?” Harry smiles up at him. “How about we do laundry together and I’ll cook you dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, okay. I remember your cooking.” Louis presses another kiss to Harry’s lips, pushes himself up to stand, and holds his hands out to help Harry up. They attempt to straighten their clothes and Louis reaches for the doorknob. “Promise you won’t disappear on me?”

Harry nods and scrunches his nose. “Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Here's a rebloggable [Tumblr](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/166979284305/just-around-the-corner-by-fullonlarrie-31-days-of) post :)


End file.
